


Beneath the Surface

by Eliabrith



Category: seaQuest
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 21:23:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15827205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliabrith/pseuds/Eliabrith
Summary: Circumstances bring Nathan Bridger back to the seaQuest. A slightly AU beginning to the seaQuest series.Written in 2003





	Beneath the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2003 and previously posted on ff.net as Alternate Beginnings under pseud TwistedImagination.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just played with them.  
> Author Notes 2003: Unbeta’d. I haven't seen most of the Pilot episode since it was first broadcast, so this was done using a transcript and a copy of the novelization (which incidentally doesn't quite match the script) found in the local library. Anyhow any and all reviews happily accepted.  
> Author Notes 2018: Over time sections of this have gone funny on Fanfiction.net, punctuation had entirely vanished from 3 large sections and some of sections of dialogue had also gone missing, so I had have had to do some reworking.

Nathan Bridger sat back in his chair and looked around the bridge watching the various crew members settle into their newly refitted stations. Six months was a long time for a submarine to be dry but that was how long the refit for seaQuest had taken. What had once been planned as a top of the line warship for NORPAC command was now the flagship for the UEO its mission to act as a peace keeper for underwater Confederations and further deep-sea research.

It was this last priority that had necessitated the extended dry-docking, turning parts of the boat into several specialised science laboratories. The civilian teams that would man the labs had been arriving all morning ready to sail this evening which was why Bridger had taken to sitting at a station on the bridge in plain clothes hoping for a few more minutes of peace. So far the science crew and military crew had managed to disagree at every turn.

Over work space, over the placement of equipment, over loading procedures etc. With all the bugs being shaken out of the new systems it was giving Bridger a headache and he relished the few minutes of quiet he had managed to secure even though it meant leaving his Executive Officer to deal with all the logistics problems by himself.

‘Commander! Commander Ford!’

Clearly his refuge had just been breached, twisting round he peered over the seat back to see Jonathan Ford, just beyond the open clam shell doors, curse silently and turn to face back the way he'd come.

‘Commander Ford, let's get something clear, shall we? My people will not be treated as so much cargo. We are scientists; we are not mindless military drones.’

Bridger stood and headed towards the door to the bridge as his first officer was joined by a petite auburn woman in a science uniform. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose then straightened to stare down on her as she came right up to him.

‘Your point, Doctor?’ Ford wasn't going to give an inch and stared down into her face.

‘Your people have occupied areas clearly marked as science research labs. I want them removed immediately.’ The Doctor glared back at the Commander.

‘May I remind you, that you are aboard a military vessel?’

Bridger winced, he had a feeling Ford had just put his foot in it. The Doctor's reply confirmed it.

‘This is a research and exploration vessel. Besides, we outnumber you one hundred twenty-four to eighty-eight.’

Ford stiffened ‘That sounds like a threat, Doctor.’

‘At least you have a grasp for the obvious.’ The Doctor retorted. Bridger clamped his mouth shut trying not to laugh out loud at his Exec's expression.

‘Now you understand this-’ Ford gripped his clipboard tightly in one hand and pointed at the Doctor.

‘Don't you point your finger at me!’

She knocked his hand away from her face, making Bridger snort with laughter.

She spun round to face him, noticing for the first time how many people were watching the argument from the bridge, the audience clearly only increased her irritation which had found a new focus.

‘You find this amusing?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.’ Bridger smiled slightly as she looked him up and down closely not bothering to hide her opinion at his rather scruffy appearance, maybe he should have shaved and changed before he came on board rather than waiting till before he was due on duty later this afternoon.

‘And what are you, some kind of stowaway?’

‘Something like that. The name's Bridger. That gave her pause.

‘Nathan Bridger? Captain Bridger?’ Her voice had lost its accusatory tone.

‘Last time I looked.’ He glanced at Ford who looked intrigued at the sudden change of atmosphere

‘I know your work. Topography, thermal range variances along with your dolphin research. I tried to contact you once. They said you were... unreachable. I'm sorry, Kristin Westphalen, medical doctor, physical oceanographer, and head of the science team aboard this ship.’ She held out her hand and after a beat he clasped it.

‘Doctor.’ He nodded at her.

‘Well, I'm late for a staff meeting... um.., it’s nice meeting you.’ She stepped back and turned back to Ford. ‘I'm not finished with this, Commander, not by a long shot.’

She stalked off down the corridor back towards the science section as Jonathan Ford sighed in relief.

‘She seems very committed.’ Bridger watched her disappear and anticipating Ford’s reaction to his words.

‘She ought to be committed.’ Ford stared down at the clipboard still tightly grasped in his hand then looked up at his commanding officer. ‘Sir.’

Bridger smiled slightly and scratched his chin.

‘Well, I think I ought to go change. You have the bridge Commander.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Bridger turned and strode down the corridor, headed directly for his cabin, lost in his thoughts. With her unreachable comment Doctor Westphalen had unwittingly stirred up some painful remembrances. Bridger entered his cabin and locked the door behind him. He mechanically showered and shaved before pulling on his uniform still dwelling on his thoughts.

He walked over to the shelf beside the holo-projector and picked up a picture. Sparkling blue eyes stared out at him from a round smiling face framed with golden blond hair.

After his wife's death he had completely locked himself away from the world. Even after Robert's death and they retreated to a tropical island Carol had always kept him living in the here and now, publishing multiple studies keeping an eye on the general happenings of the world. After she died he had cut almost all remaining contact with the world any correspondence was done through an old research colleague of Carol's who published the data Bridger continued to gather more out of habit than any real desire to continue the studies and protected him from any unwanted incursions into his solitude.

In five years only one person had managed to break through the safeguards and make contact, admittedly the first contact had been a series of emails that Bridger had simply deleted without reading. The next attempt at contact had had more success a video message embedded in an email that activated when he opened the inbox and froze all other programs preventing Bridger from stopping or deleting it until the recording was finished.

The video had intrigued Bridger and he had done some research on its sender to determine its authenticity. What he had found had surprised him, the sender had been a young student working on his Master’s degree whose programs were already being put to use in military circles.

Lucas Wolenczak had been only thirteen then, thirteen and very sure of his abilities. For his Master project he had been working on a translation programme that would allow humans to understand dolphins and vice versa, and somewhere he had heard that Nathan and Carol Bridger had been working on a similar program before the latter's death. Bridger had the necessary research base that Lucas couldn't get without years of painstaking study with dolphins and Lucas had the technical and programming knowledge to make the translator work. Both had two halves of a whole and Lucas wanted to combine them.

It had worked too. After almost a year of combining their work and back and forth on video, followed by repeated visits out to Bridger’s island base, the Vocorder had given a voice to Darwin, the dolphin who had stuck around for a few years since Bridger had rescued him from a lagoon. The teenager had delighted in mocking Bridger’s basic hand signal communications on his first visit to the Island and had made them obsolete by his third and final visit.

Bridger glanced across at the empty aqua-tubes; the dolphin wasn't back yet from his feeding trip. Looking at the clock, he decided he really should get a move on and go help Ford sort out the scientist versus military situation. He placed the picture of Lucas back down carefully beside the ones of Robert and Carol.

Over the year spent working on the Vocorder an unlikely friendship had grown between the pair, each finding the other easy to talk to about matters they would otherwise found difficult to speak about, Bridger's guilt over the deaths of his wife and son and Lucas's estrangement from his busy parents. The time on the island had been good for them both mentally and physically too in Lucas’ case. Used to a sedentary life style behind his computer keyboards Lucas learnt to swim in the clear Caribbean waters carefully watched by human and cetacean eyes while waiting for their databases to compile.

Then Lucas had disappeared from his home just over a month after the Vocorders launch. His parents had been ransomed for his return but they, following the advice of the investigating officers, had pushed for more time and Lucas had vanished entirely.

Bridger had been away on his island at the time and it was only when he had next tried to contact Lucas that he heard of the situation. Bridger had used what connections he still had to try to hunt for the boy himself but for all the trying Lucas seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth.

Less than a month later there was the trouble at the Livingstone Trench and Marilyn Stark, the then captain of the seaQuest had disappeared before her court martial. NORPAC and then the fledgling UEO, influenced by his old friend Bill Noyce, had used Starks disappearance to convince Bridger to take temporary command of the seaQuest until the new treaties where in place at least. Bridger had agreed to this solution as it made it easier to follow up any leads and information that surfaced about Lucas' possible whereabouts.

Temporary had turned into 13 months and in all this time only one possible lead had ever presented itself. A couple of months after Bridger had assumed command of the seaQuest a man had been picked up for a petty theft and when the prints where run they had matched an unidentified set found in the Wolenczak house during the initial investigation of Lucas's disappearance, but all he could say about Lucas was that when the deadline for the ransom money ran out they had ‘Gotten rid of the brat, dunno where, sold him off to someone I think.’ he'd never elaborated on any details, insisting he was simply a lackey and wasn't privy to the details. After that the trail had gone cold once more.

The blare of the diving klaxon sounding brought Bridger back to the present. Glancing at the clock, he cursed and strode rapidly out of his cabin towards the bridge, he'd spent more time than he thought locked in his memories. He assumed the loading was done, either that or Ford was trying to escape from the scientists by leaving some of them behind.

*

Ford nodded at Bridger as he entered.

‘Trying to lose a few scientists Jonathan?’

‘Ah, no sir. All personnel accounted for. We received orders from Admiral Noyce to ship out as soon as the last load was done.’

‘Probably trying to make sure I don't change my mind again and jump ship.’ Bridger muttered to himself.

‘Sir?’ Ford was looking at him with in confusion.

‘Nothing Commander. Let's give our sea legs a stretch.’ He settled into his chair and studied the screen in front of him. ‘Helm all ahead full.’

‘Aye, sir.’ Came the reply. ‘Speed adjusted, all ahead full.’

Only a slight increase in the engines pitch marked the change in speed barely noticeable if you didn't listen for it.

‘Mr O'Neill.’ Bridger swung round to face his communications officer. ‘Patch me into a ship wide channel.’

‘Aye sir. Comm channel open.’

‘This is Captain Nathan Bridger. I'm sure by now most of you have realised there is a period of adjustment ahead. This boat is no longer solely military we are now a primarily research and exploration vessel, it just so happens we have teeth. seaQuest's mission is to enforce the UEO treaty but only if the occasion arises, unless that happens we will be performing various oceanographic studies. \

I know the military and science communities tend to have different ways of doing things so in the coming months we will need to reach many compromises. I hope for your sake as well as that of the world’s oceans we can learn to work together. Our current course will take us to the Seamount chain. I look forward to working with all of you during this tour. Bridger out.’ He stabbed the button to cut the broadcast. ‘I hate making speeches. What's our ETA at the north end of the chain?’

‘Just under an hour Captain.’ The helmsman, Carlton, Bridger thought replied.

‘Commander Ford a word please?’ Bridger got up and walked over to the empty moon pool with Ford.

‘Anything new about the renegade sub?’

‘No new attacks have been reported. They might have decided to close down whatever operation they were running here and moved on since the local outposts have been upping their security measures.’

‘Well that's good but it means our task of investigating the raids will be more difficult.’

‘Captain!’

Bridger swung round to look at O'Neill. ‘You called?’

‘There's a distress call coming in.’

‘What's the source of the call?’

‘Gedrick Power Station, it's under attack, aggressor unknown.’ O'Neill leaned over his board fingers flying across its surface. ‘The signal is getting weaker. The stations minimal defences have been blown to hell and they're reporting numerous casualties.’

‘Maybe we should contact the UEO as it could be our first engagement under UEO command.’ Hitchcock spoke up.

‘No can-do Commander.’ O’Neill denied then expounded. ‘We're too deep for rapid direct communication, sir.’

‘How far is the nearest communications buoy?’ Asked Ford.

‘Um.’ O'Neill checked his computer. ‘Five hundred kilometres, due east. It would be a very long detour.’

‘What's our proximity to the station?’ Bridger leaned down to look at the screen himself.

‘Uh, it's on the border, the Gedrick territory. Distance, forty-eight kilometres, depth, forty-nine hundred.’

Bridger did the math in his head. ‘Well, with these currents, we should be there in about, uh, twenty minutes. Feed spatial coordinates for the power station to navigation. Helm and all other stations: prepare for incoming change of course and speed.’

‘Course and speed adjusted.’ Carlton replied.

Bridger moved towards the navigation console and read the new course. ‘Bring her around to zero nine zero, all ahead full.’

‘Gedrick Power Station, bearing zero nine zero, one hundred kilometres, all ahead full.’ Carlton confirmed.

‘Commander, you have the bridge. I'd better inform our new science head of the situation.’ Bridger paused and looked back at Ford. ‘Unless you'd rather do it?’

‘Ah no thanks sir. I'll pass.’

Bridger made his way down to the sea deck slowly, using the time to observe the crew members he passed. As he entered sea deck he was greeted by excited chittering from the moon pool, smiling he walked over and flipped the switch to activate the Vocorder.

‘Boat swim fast.’

A couple of scientists across the room jumped at the sound of the computerised voice and looked about for the source.

‘Yes Darwin. We're going at full speed. We're very deep as well so you're going to have to stay inside for the next while okay.’ Darwin nodded happily, splashing Bridger lightly.

‘Good boy.’ He flipped the switch again as the dolphin swam away chasing a floating toy.

Looking up at the staring scientists he asked. ‘Know where Dr Westphalen is?’

‘Umm I think she was inventorying the medical supplies.’ A young woman answered. ‘In med-bay.’ She added unnecessarily, pointing towards a doorway.

Bridger nodded his thanks and moved towards the infirmary doorway. Seeing the doctor counting boxes and marking the tally on a clipboard. He rapped the door with his knuckles to get her attention, waiting till she looked up before stepping into the infirmary.

‘Can I help you Captain?’

‘We've received a distress call from Gedrick power station. They are under attack from an unidentified renegade sub. They are reporting multiple casualties. We don't know any more details at the minute the signal was rather weak and faded out before we could verify numbers.’

‘I'll arrange a medical team and set up the bay for multiple casualties.’

‘Thank you doctor.’

O'Neill's voice came over the comm. ‘Captain to the bridge. Captain to the bridge.’

‘I'd better go.’

‘Thank you.’ Westphalen called after him. Bridger turned back towards her. ‘For coming to tell me.’

He nodded and made his way back towards the bridge with more haste than his trip down.

*

The seaQuest moved slowly into the valley where the station was located her WSKR probes fanned out in front guiding the huge submarine.

The bridge was quick and tense with activity when Bridger entered and joined Ford at the helms station watching the progress. The seabed wasn't flat here: as in other volcanic areas spikes and hills stood, thrust up by old eruptions, an ever-present hazard for an unwary submariner. The front screens showed a 3D sonar 'landscape' that changed as they progressed along it.

‘WSKRs are kicking back data. One typhoon class Delta 4.’ Called Miguel Ortiz, the sensor chief.

‘Power station communication reporting major structural damage, life support's nominal. Survivors are gathering in the main complex.’ O'Neill added now that seaQuest was close enough to resume communications and cut through the interference caused by the attack.

‘Delta 4 is on the move, heading two zero seven degrees, thirty knots. She's moving away from the station.’ Ortiz said sharply.

‘Give me eyes, Mr Ortiz.’ Ford walked over to the sensor station to look over the chiefs shoulder. ‘Helm bring us around two seven zero, intercept course.’

‘Coming around, intercept course. Aye sir.’ Carlton confirmed.

The front screen changed from the map to a view of the Delta sub lurking just at the range of the seaQuests lights. The old-fashioned soviet missile boat looked as though it had been heavily modified.

‘Sound battle stations.’ The high-pitched klaxon sounded throughout the boat and Bridger could hear the water tight doors thumping shut between the various sections one after the other: the bridge doors hissed shut behind him sealing automatically.

‘Targeting profile up!’ At Fords command the front screen switched again, this time to a WSKR enhanced view with the targeting grids and scaling overlaying the image.

‘Targeting grid locked.’ Ortiz replied.

Ford looked across at Bridger with an expression that clearly said: 'Any time you want to resume command, it would be very welcome.'

‘All stop.’ Bridger called. Ford crossed to his side to confer. ‘Sir. We have a chance of stopping that sub now.’

‘True but we need to consider the lives of the people in that power plant.’

‘I'm aware of that, but if that sub gets loose it'll be free to attack somewhere else.’

‘If. You're talking hypothetical, I'm talking reality. This boat is a thousand-foot-long Swiss Army Knife. Use your options: have one of the WSKRs tag the renegade, we can deal with it later.’

‘Say, if anyone's interested, that boomer's making a turn.’ Chief Petty Officer Crocker spoke up from where he was observing the screen.

Ortiz was frowning at his console then jerked his head up. ‘She's moving into an attack posture!’

‘Weapons.’ Ford called.

‘Sir.’ Phillips replied.

‘Flood forward tubes; prepare E plasma torpedoes, sixty percent charge.’

‘Loading, sixty percent charge.’

‘Helm, reverse engines one-quarter, six degrees down angle.’

‘Reverse, one-quarter, down six degrees.’ Carlton confirmed

‘Eight degrees.’ Bridger corrected.

‘Eight degrees.’ Ford agreed.

‘Delta 4's forward tubes are flooded and opening. Preparing to fire.’ Ortiz called angling his WSKRs for a better sensor view.

‘Eight degree...’ Carlton's confirmation trailed off. ‘Uh... sirs helm control is not responding.’

‘What do you mean, not responding?’ Ford demanded

‘Helm control is frozen. She won't let me take the reins.’

‘Lieutenant Commander?’ Ford turned to Hitchcock who headed to the helm console.

‘On it.’ She replied.

‘Delta 4 is eight hundred meters and closing.’ Ortiz warned.

‘Open forward torpedo tubes.’ Bridger snapped.

‘Can't sir. Control isn't accepting our commands.’ Phillips called back.

‘Go to redundant systems.’ Ford sounded worried.

‘They won't engage.’ The same edge of fear was clear in Hitchcock's voice too.

‘Great. What else can go wrong?’ Ford muttered low enough that only Bridger heard it.

As though to mock him Ortiz shouted. ‘Target ship has just fired. One electrostatic torpedo away. Homing... She's locked and headed in.’

‘Countermeasures.’ Bridger ordered. Hitchcock moved back to her own station punching the controls rapidly before looking up with a furious expression.

‘Countermeasures aren't responding, sir.’ She tried rerouteing the system several times, but the console refused to response.

‘Sound collision.’

It was all they could do.

The collision klaxon howled through the boat. The bridge crew stumbled to their seats and strapped themselves in all the while watching as the torpedo streaked closer on the screen.

‘Everybody hold tight.’ Fort shouted.

‘Torpedo at one hundred meters and closing. Fifty meters.’ Ortiz continued the countdown.

The blast when the torpedo hit shook the bridge hard throwing various items, not strapped down, through the air like missiles. The lights failed. The front screen blacked out several times then stabilised as the power fluctuations stopped. One of the WSKRs showed that the torpedo had hit just behind the docking sphere and a blue web of plasma charge was crackling along the hull from the point of impact.

‘Damage report.’ Ford shouted as emergency lighting flickered on.

‘Port side strike. We're taking on water.’ Called back Hitchcock from the engineering station where she was running diagnostics.

‘Damn it, where are our battle systems?’

‘Inoperative, sir.’

‘Delta 4 is flooding tubes, preparing to fire a second strike. Your orders, Sir?’ Ortiz looked over his shoulder.

‘Flood the ballast tanks fore and aft.’ Bridger ordered.

‘Sir?’ Hitchcock looked at Bridger in confusion.

‘Do it! How deep is that rift?’ Bridger swung back towards Ortiz.

‘Twenty... twenty-two thousand feet.’

‘Helmsman.’

‘Sir.’ Carlton looked up.

‘Dive into Pacific Plate rift at...’ Bridger looked down at his screen. ‘six zero four two.’

‘Aye, sir.’

It was a strange sensation as seaQuest tilted into an uncontrolled dive moving silently over the lip of the rift and down into the depths.

‘Eight thousand feet and dropping.’ Ortiz monitored the depth as they fell while the front screen showed the seaQuest falling away beneath the WSKRs.

‘Flood systems crashing.’ Hitchcock warned.

‘The Delta 4's position?’ Bridger walked over to Ortiz's station as the younger man changed his screen to show the aft view.

‘Still pursuing.’

‘Let's see how bad they want us. Take her to the bottom.’

‘Captain, this ship wasn't designed for a crash dive.’ Ford sounded shocked.

Bridger just looked at him in exasperation.

‘If you have any better ideas Commander, I'm wide open.’

Ford shook his head in response and a tense silence fell across the bridge.

All eyes fixed on the front screen showing a split view of the rift beneath the seaQuest on the right and the Delta following them down on the left. The Delta's descent was powered, and she was looming closer and closer.

‘Thirteen thousand feet.’ Crocker read out the depth as they fell.

Everyone knew that if she fired again it was all over. A deep dive was nothing to the seaQuest, she was built to go to twenty thousand feet but not with a compromised hull and the damage caused by an E-plasma torpedo increased by depth, one more hit anywhere on or near the boat would finish them. The structure creaked and groaned as the metal began to buckle. Over the seaQuests groans the crew listened for the screech that would indicate an incoming torpedo.

‘Fourteen thousand five hundred.’

‘Fifteen thousand feet.’ Ortiz took over the count. ‘Delta 4 is breaking off, she's moving away.’

‘Don't let her out of our sights, we don't want her to double back on us.’ Bridger turned to the helmsman. ‘Level her off; we can't drop any more. Crocker,’ Bridger continued his circle.

‘Pump some oil into the ballast tanks and let us rise slowly Mr Ortiz, keep an eye out for any sign of that sub returning.’

*

It took a while for the seaQuest to climb up out of the abyss before they could survey the damage to both Gedrick station and themselves. The station was worse off. It had been built before the development of E-plasma torpedoes and therefore had no defences against them. Large parts of the station lay dark and shattered, open to the sea.

seaQuest had survived quite well. While she was able to go much deeper than she had gone, uncontrolled dives, while taking on water due to torpedo damage was not an ideal circumstance.

She lay over the station standing guard over its evacuation, the WSKRs hovering around her scanning the ugly jagged scar several meters long where the torpedo had struck. The homeo-static single-fibre hull designed to repair itself had worked sealing over the breach blocking all but the initial influx of water. It had also isolated the electrostatic charge which could have otherwise shorted out the life support and computer systems killing everyone on board.

Shuttles had been coming and going for an hour now, ferrying people to and from the station, seaQuest personnel were on the station helping shut down equipment and remove what they could. The Docking Bay looked like an impromptu refugee camp, the medical team having partitioned off parts as a triage centre. Blanketed forms lay or huddled in those areas with medics moving from one to another.

Bridger peered through the large dim room, seaQuest was now on auxiliary lighting diverting main power to other areas, he was looking for the stations supervisor to answer a query. Catching sight of Dr Westphalen leaning over a stretcher he crossed the room to her side.

‘Have you seen Dr Ryers anywhere?’

Westphalen looked up briefly then glanced around the room he's over there talking to that family. Bridger followed her finger seeing a tall thin man with black hair ruffle a child's hair whilst speaking to the mother.

‘Thanks. How's she doing?’ He indicated the patient before them.

‘She's in shock. She'll be fine.’ The doctor straightened up and motioned for a couple of medics to take the stretcher. ‘OK, bed five, let's go.’ She followed the stretcher through into the med-bay.

Bridger walked over to the man Westphalen had pointed out. ‘You Dr Ryers?’

The man looked round in surprise. ‘Yes. Yes I am.’

‘Nathan Bridger.’ He held out his hand.

‘Ah yes. Captain Bridger.’ Ryers clasped Bridger's hand tightly. ‘Thank you for coming to our aid.’

Bridger shook his head dismissing the thanks. ‘No need. However, I need to ask you about something. If you'll follow me.’

‘Of course, Captain.’ They left the launch bay and headed for the bridge.

‘One of the subs ferrying your people off the station picked up a weak distress signal. Nothing much was thought of it at first, but the crew noticed that it is still repeating but all the plants comm systems have been shut down. You're sure all your people are accounted for?’

They entered the bridge and moved towards the front screen showing a 3D view of the station.

‘Yes Captain. Everyone including the children are on seaQuest or otherwise accounted for.’ The doctor smiled sadly.

‘Sir,’ O'Neill walked over. ‘I've located the source of the signal, it's on the far side of the plant about here.’ He stretched up to point at the area the signal originated.’

‘But that doesn't make sense.’ Ryers objected. ‘That was the original communications centre when the plant was being built it acted as a dormitory for the workers. It has been closed off since the new comm system was put in the main complex 6 years ago. The access tunnel collapsed during seismic activity last year, the only way to reach it now is by sub. I have no idea why anyone would want to use it, I thought all the equipment had been removed. You're sure that's where the signal's from?’

‘Yes Sir.’ O'Neill affirmed.

‘Crocker.’ Bridger turned to his head of security. ‘Take a launch and go see what's there and take a team with you just in case. Dr if you could tell the Chief anything more about the centre it would be appreciated.’

‘Of course, Captain.’ Ryers nodded before following Crocker off the bridge.

‘How are our systems?’ Bridger asked of the bridge crew in general.

‘Hull integrity isn't great; the outer pliant skin resealed itself as designed; we still don't have full engines. Lieutenant Hitchcock reports eleven other systems have crashed. Among them, weapons and propulsion.’ Ford answered for the crew.

Bridger looked up sharply ‘Source?’

‘Unknown.’

‘Has anyone checked out the warranty on this thing?’ Bridger sighed and scrubbed his hand though his hair. ‘Well, we should be glad about these people anyway.’

‘Captain, I have Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock doing a thermal trace of the power station.’

‘Hyper-reality Probe?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good.’

*

Bit by bit Gedrick Station seemingly vanished into the darkness as the rest of the systems where switched off. Down among the towers - the few of them that still stood upright - a small, strange device spurted past leaving a trail of bubbles behind it.

An untrained observer might have thought the device was some kind of squid, if a squid swam without moving its tentacles and survive odd glass and metal protuberances apparently attached to it here. The numerous arms were metal not meat, it had a head made of sensor probes rather than bone: it had a brain, but the brain was elsewhere.

The device swam downward closer to the station through an eerily clear landscape: one from which all the water seemed to have been removed, so that every physical detail stood up sharp and real. On the bridge of seaQuest, Hitchcock sat at her station being the brain for the distant 'body', seeing the hyper real view. She was wearing the Hyper reality probe headset and gloves. Hitchcock sat in her chair, her eyes open, observing: but not anything in the room - seeing things elsewhere, hearing, feeling, things outside. The next best thing to being there.

The probe looked where she looked, moved where she moved. It was easier and safer than sending out a diver - at such depths and pressures few suits, and fewer people could handle this depth. Now she sent the probe zipping among the damaged building of the power station. She glanced off to the left ; the probe glanced with her noting the presence of a seaQuest shuttle heading back to the sub, and then up as she looked up. Above her was a tangle of large, ugly pipes. She blinked to change the view, it switched to a colourful thermographic view of the pipes, seeing where the hot gas ran, where it was cool and where, in the skins of the pipes recent friction still lay as heat, betraying stress-spots and fractures.

Hitchcock stretched her fingers, considering the best way to continue her investigation. Following her gesture, the probe reconfigured its arms to fit more easily among the pipes.

She sat there for a while longer - muscle-twitches and slight moves, serving to guide the probe through the shattered forest of pipes and conduits. Suddenly she saw what she had been half-suspecting would be there: what she had been afraid of.

‘Uh-oh...’ She cleared her throat. ‘Uh there's something here - Sir I think you'd better take a look at this...’

Bridger and Ford crossed over to Hitchcock and peered at her screen in concern.

After a moment Bridger looked up at Ford.

‘Wardroom. Let's get everyone we can in there.’

*

Crocker stood at the door of the med-bay watching the latest arrivals huddle together. They were just kids. Six scared, terrified kids. The scene that had greeted the team on the old communications station had been one of confusion and desperation. Some of the ceiling supports had collapsed killing one of the few adults in the group, during the resulting confusion. Reese Marshall, the only woman present, had taken the opportunity to transmit the distress call. Now she hovered around the children protectively.

As soon as they reached the seaQuest she had demanded that her father and surviving brother be arrested for a string of crimes; computer fraud, espionage, trespass on Gedrick's property and most surprisingly slavery with the possibility of abduction.

Her father, according to her clipped explanation, had bought most of the kids for his own private work force. If they wanted to eat they did the work he wanted, which was siphoning off funds from bank accounts around the world.

Crocker had looked at the kids and seen the truth of the words, filthy, half-starved and terrified of everyone, it was clear they had been badly mistreated for some time. The older man had also confirmed the story as Crocker placed him in the holding cell, he'd seemed defeated and lost.

Reese seemed bemused by the number of people present in the room, unable to keep all her charges together with the medics checking them over, though as soon as one was released they shuffled back to join the others huddled in a corner.

As Doctor Westphalen released the last teenager Reese moved to keep herself between the crew and kids. The Doc spoke to her for a moment watching the boy she'd just finished checking. Reese shook her head and answered something. They both watched the boy slide slowly down the wall slightly apart from the others.

The comm blared to life. ‘All senior crew and science heads please report to the wardroom.’

Westphalen looked up at the sound then beckoned one of the medics over. Leaning in she gave some orders about the kids. Then she walked across to join Crocker and they left for the wardroom together.

‘How are the kids?’

‘Stressed, slightly malnourished but they should be OK. From what they would tell me they were runaways, picked up and sold off. They're reluctant to say too much and I understand that. I've arranged for them to stay together away from the crew. They aren't used to lots of people and are scared. I don't want to push them for too many details or they'll clam up completely. One of them doesn't speak.’

‘English?’

‘At all. Reese said she's never heard him make any sound at all. One of the other kids nicknamed him Frankenstein for some reason and he seems happy enough to respond to that or Frankie.’

‘Poor kid.’

*

They arrived at the ward room to find that the science and military personnel had divided themselves down separate sides of the table. It was standing room only though one of the science team moved to give Westphalen his seat.

‘Now everyone is present we can get on. We may have a problem with Gedrick station.’ Bridger hit a button to pull up the images from the Hyper-Reality probe. The screen showed the thermographic view of the power station's central derrick. Mostly the colours showing were cool blues and greens, except for a bloom of red-orange heat from the base of it.

Westphalen frowned as she read over the data reaching several alarming conclusions. She slumped back in her chair and looked at the other scientists who'd already looked over the data reading the confirmation of her fears etched on their faces. She looked up and met Bridgers gaze, he nodded at her to take the lead. Nodding back, she stood and moved to the large view screen on the front wall pulling up the images she'd just studied.

‘The Captain is right we do have a problem. As you can see from the data Lieutenant Hitchcock got back from the probe, the power station is built over a volcanic vent.’

‘Why?’ Ford interrupted.

‘Energy. They use the trapped heat to run their turbines.’ Bridger explained before Westphalen could snap at him for the interruption.

‘Thank you.’ Westphalen nodded again.

‘You're welcome.’ Bridger gave her a slight smile and motioned for her to continue.  
‘It's a common enough arrangement, but according to the data from that probe -’ She pointed to the tell-tale cloud of orange-red gathering at the base of the derrick. ‘the venting cap at the base of the station is in the process of tearing.’

Along the science side of the table concerned glances were exchanged and quiet murmurings broke out.

‘What happens if it breaks?’ This time it was Hitchcock that interrupted sounding concerned.

Westphalen shook her head slowly and stared at the screen. ‘A nightmare. The poisonous gases, which are usually captured and disposed of, will spill out across the ocean floor.’

‘How big a spread?’ Ford questioned picking up on the seriousness of the problem.

Kristin sighed. ‘With the thermal currents in this area, it could be hundreds of miles. Every living organism, plant and animal, will be destroyed. We'd have our first equivalent of a deep ocean desert wasteland.’

The noise among the science crew got louder. To Bridger's annoyance most of the naval crew were sitting with expressions ranging from blank unconcern to confusion and annoyance that such a fuss was being made about so little. He opened his mouth to question Westphalen then realised she wouldn't hear him. Taking a deep breath, he raised his voice imitating a shout he'd heard his own commanding officers use in his younger days.

‘Can it be fixed?’ The unexpected volume from the captain stunned everyone into silence Bridger fixed her with a searching look. Westphalen stared back in astonishment and Bridger realised with some surprise that she'd not expected him to be on her side.

‘Yes. Given the proper equipment...’

‘You mean military equipment?’ Ford broke in again frowning a bit.

‘Who cares whose equipment it is?’ Bridger stared at the Commander.

‘Wait a second, Captain. This ship is operating under very unusual and dangerous circumstances. I'm not sure we should divert our efforts. This ship is operating under very unusual and dangerous circumstances, I don't know if we should divert our efforts from the need to repair the damage and find the cause of the weapons and propulsion systems failures. We still have an armed rebel sub out there.’

‘If I read the UEO mandate correctly, this boat cannot sail away from an ecological disaster if it can do something about it.’ He glared at his first officer who stared back for a beat before nodding. ‘Only so many TeamCraft and EVA suits can work on our hull at any given time, so I say we patch that vent.’

‘Yes, sir. Doctor what will you need?’

‘Uh..’ Westphalen seemed thrown by Ford's abrupt turn around. ‘We'll need precise specifications of the venting cap assembly. Then you can proceed. I think you should talk to Dr. Ryers about that. He'll know what they normally do for maintenance and what emergency plans there are in place.’

Some of the naval officers didn't look thrilled, by contrast the scientists expressions ranged from stunned to looking like Christmas had come early.

‘Dismissed.’ Bridger decided the best way to avoid any further problems was to remove the opportunity. Ford stood up and left the wardroom to start making arrangements the rest of the naval crew following on his heels the scientists trailing in their wake a strategic distance behind.

Bridger looked over at Westphalen as he stood up. She was clearly pleased but wasn't going to let show how much: certainly not in front of the military types and maybe not even in front of her own people. Walking over to her he tapped her on the shoulder.

‘Can I get you a cup of coffee?’

She gave him a quizzical look, then nodded.

In the officers lounge they sat their cups and went through their normal cream and sugar rituals. There was a monitor nearby and Bridger activated it to have a look at the Docking Bay. The place was turning into a melee despite the fact that Gedrick's refugees had been moved to other areas for convenience while the repairs took place.

Off to one side the Bay Control Officer stood at his station monitoring the deployment of several TeamCraft on his display screens. Below him, streaming towards the docking port came a cluster of science crew carrying their equipment - monitors, chemical analysers and so forth - clashing uncomfortably with a group of military crew carrying their own gear. Both groups were waiting to go up the ladders to the waiting TeamCraft, but there was no mixing, no chatter between team. Instead, Bridger noted, there were glares.

Visible on the display screens at the control officers’ station, several TeamCraft, each with its two-person crew, were already on their way toward the smoking base of the power station derrick. One vanished into the smoke while Bridger watched. Others were still in the process of pushing away from the seaQuest's Docking Sphere section.

Westphalen was watching over his shoulder as he switched views to what one of the TeamCraft was seeing, the swirls of toxic vapour from around the base of the power station.

‘Thank you for what you did back there.’

Bridger turned from the monitor to face the doctor. ‘It made sense and it is our duty.’

She looked at him curiously. ‘Excuse me for saying so - but you don't strike me as a typical military man.’

He was intrigued in spite of himself. ‘Really how do I ‘strike’ you, Doctor?’

Westphalen looked embarrassed. ‘Now I've insulted you.’

Bridger laughed softly. ‘On the contrary. I've spent most of my career trying not to be part of the machine.’

‘Then you consider yourself a radical?’

He raised his eyebrows.

‘I never thought about it one way or the other. I made up my mind a long time ago I wouldn't ‘go along to get along’.’ He thought of Carol remembering how she would tease him about what she called his 'troublemaking' - ‘My wife used to call me ‘terminally stubborn’.’ he said.

‘How long were you married?’

‘Twenty-seven years. She died a few years back.’

‘I'm sorry.’ Westphalen suddenly found her coffee interesting, stirring the brown liquid slowly. ‘Do you have children?’

‘We had a son, Robert. He was lost at sea six years ago.’

Westphalen just looked at him unable to find the words to say so she dropped back into a more professional mode.

‘You wanted to talk to me about something?’

Bridger blinked back memories and nodded at her glad for the reprieve. ‘I think we need a trouble shooter’

‘A what?’

‘I don't think what's happening on this boat is an accident. I think we need someone to go down into the guts of the computer and dig around a bit. Unfortunately, the man who was supposed to join us as computer engineer was in an accident last week and we hadn't time to replace him, after all this was just supposed to be a quick jaunt up the coast for a few quick surveys and a good shakedown then back to base to sort any problems.’

‘Well, what about Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock?’

Bridger shook his head. ‘No, she's hardware. Besides she's working with the repair team. I was thinking of someone from your section.’

‘It's the wrong technology. Most of my crew can use computers and specialist programs but there's no-one that specialises in systems.’ She paused frowning mentally running through her crew’s CVs then blinked. ‘Well, there is one person who might be able to help.’

‘Who?’

‘Follow me.’ She pushed away for the table and lead the way out the door. ‘When Crocker went to investigate the distress signal he found a few adults and a group of teenagers. The adults had been using the children to hack computer systems around the world and siphon off funds into an account. Now, one of the adults wasn't in on the scheme, she's the daughter of the leader, when she objected to what they were doing the father brought in other kids to use from somewhere, but due to the location she could hardly leave so she's been looking after the children since.’

Westphalen lead him to a room marked 'Mammal Engineering'. ‘I've put the kids from the computer hackers in here.’

‘You’re suggesting we use the kids to investigate our system problems?’

‘Not the kids I don't think Reese would let us but until about 4 years ago it was just her, her father and older brothers involved in hacking the systems. They using the kids when she decided what they were doing was wrong and refused to continue, but she does know computers and I think she'll be willing to help.’ She knocked on the closed door, after a moment it cracked open and dark eyes peered out the gap. Recognition flared as they focused on Westphalen and the door opened further to reveal a small woman, with black hair aged somewhere in her mid-twenties if Bridger guessed right.

‘Doctor Westphalen? Is there a problem.’

‘Reese this is Captain Bridger.’ The young woman glanced warily at Bridger and gave him a quick nod. ‘Can we come in and talk to you?’

Reese glanced behind her into the room and seemed to consider with the other occupants then nodded and pulled the door open completely motioning them inside.

The room was dark the only illumination coming from the emergency lights and the aqua tube along one wall. Bridger glanced about the room as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. Reese sat down at an empty work station just inside the door and as far from the other forms as possible.

‘Reese.’ Westphalen hesitated unsure how to continue.

Bridger crouched down beside Reese. ‘Dr Westphalen told me you know a bit about computers.’

The young women stiffened slightly and regarded him warily before nodding cautiously.

‘See, when we arrived here at Gedrick our computer started to malfunction. Currently we don't have a computer engineer on board or anyone knowledgeable enough to check the system out. I was wondering would you be willing to act as a trouble shooter and see if you can find what is causing the malfunctions? You will of course be reimbursed for time spent working on our system.’

‘What happens if I say no?’

‘Nothing. We'll try to muddle through the system code ourselves.’

Reese started at him for a few seconds. ‘I'll look at it.’

‘Thank you. You can use the computers here if you'd prefer rather than using a lab.’ Bridger pointed at the dark monitor pushed to the back of the workstation. Reese nodded her thanks and pulled the keyboard and monitor closer, flipping it on.

Bridger shifted and pulled another chair up to watch the young woman work. Once the terminal had been brought on-line Reese seemed to lose any sense of the world around her, focusing only on the screen in front not once glancing down at the keyboard her fingers raced across. Now and then she'd mutter quietly to herself sentences so interspersed with technical jargon Bridger couldn't follow.

He looked around the room and for the first time peered at the other occupants, though there wasn't much he could make out in the shadows of the room. There were a couple of kids on camp beds, but the rest were curled up on the floor in a mass of blankets and cushions seemingly asleep.

Looking back he saw Reese was still working furiously then she paused staring at the screen. A couple more key strokes and she relaxed slightly.

‘Got it.’ She motioned for Bridger and Westphalen to look at the screen. ‘The core of your main computer has a virus. That's what's been chipping away at the systems.’ Reese continued scrolling down the lines of programming code pointing out infected areas.

‘But if it's in the core, why isn't it affecting the whole ship?’ Westphalen leaned over her shoulder for a closer look at the screen.

‘Oh, it will eventually. It just started with the weapons and propulsion systems.

‘But wouldn't diagnostics have found it in a routine check?’

‘No.’ Bridger shook his head. ‘When weapons and propulsion goes down, the system just makes a quick pass with the diagnostics program. Basically, it works on the principle that if the problem can't be found and solved quickly you're dead anyway.’

‘Cheerful.’ Westphalen observed.

‘Practical.’ Bridger corrected.

Westphalen straightened up with a look of someone who didn't like what they were seeing evidently the contents of the screen made more sense to her than it did to Bridger. ‘I still don't see how it could have been missed.’

Reese pressed a sequence of keys and another screen came up. ‘Well, it's buried so deep that the diagnostics sweep couldn't even find it. Whoever planted this thing really knew what they were doing.’

‘Then it's not organic?’ Bridger asked.

‘No way.’ Reese bit her lip and glanced up at the seaQuest crew a wary look. ‘No, it's too specific.’

Bridger sighed. ‘Is there any way we can tell how long it's been in there?

‘Not until I peel back the layers of data between me and it. Uh oh.’ The screen began to flash.

‘Uh oh what?’

‘It's got dogs. Watchdogs. Sub-programs to protect the virus. If I mess with any of them, the whole system could crash and burn. Life support, navigation, defence, the works.’  
O'Neill's voice came over the ship wide intercom.

‘Captain to the bridge. Captain to the bridge.’

Bridger sighed. ‘Guess that means me.’ He stood up and walked out the door before leaning back in. ‘Hey, kid, good work.’

Westphalen smiled sadly at the surprised expression on the young woman's face then switched to a more encouraging smile when Reese's gaze flicked to her.

*

Ford looked up as Bridger entered the bridge. ‘Sir. We have a Sat-link video transmission, distress call.’

‘From where?’ Bridger frowned.

A small farming outpost.

‘It's a pretty weak signal. Hitchcock added.

‘Try it on the main screen.’ Bridger ordered moving to stand behind the command chair gripping the back.

‘Yes, sir.’ She replied.

The screen came to life showing a very weak television signal, badly cluttered with static and distortion. The picture kept drifting out. The only thing that could be made out with any clarity was the vague shape of a man, stretching with the distortion the righting itself.

Sound was clear enough though: sound was always the first thing to come in and the last to be lost on any given carrier. There were sounds of pandemonium going on behind the man: he kept turning from side to side reacting to every noise around him. A loud burst of static blared from the speakers coinciding with the image rocking and flares of light burst in the background. The static stopped as the signal stabilised again

‘My name is Raymond Brenner. I'm the territorial governor of the Westridge Farm Community. We've been attacked, without provocation, by a renegade craft. The sound of explosions caught Brenner's attention for a moment before he focus again on the camera. We're in trouble; we need help. If there's any ship out there within the sound of my voice, please help us. We need help. Some-’

The image vanished leaving only faint feedback sparkles dancing across the screen.

Murmuring had broken out on the Bridge as the situation had become clearer, then as the transmission had failed a hush fell across the crew. Though Bridger heard one woman whisper to the man next to her. ‘We could have helped them if we weren't wasting our time patching that stupid vent thing to protect a few fish.’

Ford leaned in close to speak to the captain. ‘Why would they attack an unarmed housing community?’

‘They're baiting us.’ Bridger closed his eyes briefly.

‘Should I recall the repair…’ Ford trailed off at Bridger’s negative shake of his head. ‘But we've got to stop them, they'll slaughter those people.’

‘We have a job here that needs done first. Plus ,we can't do anything until we get this boat running and we need more time for that. Don't worry, this isn't over yet.’ Bridger chewed his lip as he thought over the options. ‘Commander you have the bridge.’

Bridger left and headed back down towards Mammal Engineering.

Inside the small room it was a vastly different scene to the one he had left not long before. All the lights where on, several more workstations had been set up and the children clustered about them, heads down conferring with each other, Doctor Westphalen and Reese now sat on the lower bunk watching the kids.

Stepping down into the room Bridger made his way over to the bunks. One of the kids noticed him and watched his progress warily before turning his attention back to the screens when Reese waved him off.

‘What's going on?’

At the sound of Bridger’s voice all noise except the faint hum of the computers ceased as all the kids realised there was someone else present now and froze. Westphalen glared at the captain while Reese wandered over to speak to the kids. Slowly the noise levels rose again and Reese rejoined the other adults at the bunks.

‘Sorry. I didn't mean to scare them.’ Bridger apologised.

Reese shrugged. ‘It's OK they just seem to tune the rest of the world out when they work. Uh.. I thought that maybe they'd be more help than just me. They know so much more about computer systems than I do.’ She explained in a rush.

‘That's fine. Two heads are better than one and all that.’ He smiled trying to get Reese to relax and stop looking as though she expected to be hit. He let his eyes glance quickly over the kids aware of Reese tensing beside him. ‘Or in this case seven.’

She smiled faintly at the slight joke relaxing as Bridger focused on her again.

‘What have you found?’ He asked.

‘Well Captain, we're still trying to get to the virus, but we were able to nail the time of entry. Judging by the layers of data it was planted a little over a year ago. Thirteen months to be more exact. Frankie is trying to get a clearer picture and the others are trying to find a way around the watch dogs.’

Reese nodded and pointed to a scrawny boy in the far corner, dark blonde hair tied back and working hunched over the keyboard, fingers flying. Bridger frowned slightly as he focused on the boy.

Reese seeing his expression change tried to refocus his attention away from the kid.

‘He's the best one here at system analysis and…’ She caught at Bridger's arm and pointed to the closest monitor. ‘If you look here Captain…’ She trailed off again as Bridger remained frozen in position beside her. Looking up she saw the colour drain from his face.

Hearing the uncertainty in Reese's voice Kristin Westphalen looked at him closely.

'Captain Bridger are you alright?'

The kids had also stopped working at the expressions of concern and were watching the 3 adults curiously.

Reese and Westphalen followed Bridger's gaze to Frankie who like the other kids had looked up but unlike them showed no expression of interest in fact his face was blank. He'd frozen half turned towards them in his seat with one hand in mid air the other pressed to the keyboard.

‘Lucas?’ Bridger whispered almost desperately.

The kid blinked and curled his arms around himself protectively before turning to face them fully never taking his eyes off the captain.

‘Frankie? What's going on?’ Reese looked between Frankie and Bridger searching for an explanation for the tension in the transfixed pair.

Bridger pulled away from the women shaking off Reese's hold and stepped uncertainly towards the boy, giving him plenty of time to react or move away.

Kneeling down beside the kid he kept his movements slow and deliberate. He looked the kid over taking in the too thin appearance, the skin, pale from lack of sun, the dark circles round familiar blue eyes.

‘Lucas.’ He asked again feeling more certain.

Lucas nodded slightly and slowly reached out a hand to touch the captain. He opened and closed his mouth for a few moments, but no sound emerged.

‘Real?’ He mouthed lightly gripping Bridger's shoulder.

‘Yeah Kiddo. I'm real.’ Bridger reached up and covered the hand tightening on his shoulder with his own.

Lucas closed his eyes tightly as tears began to flow down his cheeks.

‘Hey, hey. It's OK, you're safe. I'm here.’ Bridger reached up and wiped at the tears.

Lucas opened his eyes again then curled his arms around the captain and buried his face in Bridger's neck, the movement causing him to slide off his chair to the floor. Bridger returned the hug tightly.

Across the room Westphalen and Reese watched the reunion in confusion, unsure what to do.

‘Maybe we should give them some time.’ Westphalen suggested. Reese looked worried at the idea of leaving one of her kids on his own.

‘But..!’

‘He'll be fine, we won't go far. Come on.’ Seeing Reese wasn't going to voluntarily move Kristin caught her arm and gently manoeuvred her towards the door. The kids followed the women out into the corridor without encouragement.

After several minutes of Lucas clinging desperately to him Bridger's legs began to cramp and he had to shift to find a more comfortable position. Lucas pulled back slightly to let him settle against the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him before curling into his side and resting his head against his shoulder. Bridger draped his left arm over the boy squeezing gently as he searched for something to say.

‘You OK?’ Well that was original… Bridger thought.

Lucas nodded his head shakily even though the captain couldn't see the movement.

‘I'm sorry, Kiddo.’ Bridger sighed.

Lucas pushed himself up slightly, so he could look Bridger in the face and frowned in confusion.

‘For not being able to find you. It's why I came back to civilisation.’ Bridger elaborated.

Lucas continued to frown and waved a hand to indicate their surroundings. Bridger followed the actions then smiled.

‘I rather think this counts more as you managing to find me than the other way around.’ he teased lightly, heartened to see a weak grin flit across Lucas's face. 'Darwin missed you too. He'll be happy to see you.’

Lucas's eyes brightened at the mention of his dolphin friend. Suddenly he snapped his head round to look at the aqua-tube then pointed to it and looked back with a questioning expression.

‘Yes he's on board somewhere.’ Lucas scrambled off the floor and peered through the glass into the tube missing the frown that crossed Bridger's face at Lucas's continued silence.

'Lucas...?'

Bridger broke off for a moment until the teenager looked over his shoulder at him.

‘Lucas can you speak?’

‘Yes.’ Lucas paused for a moment, his hand fluttering to his throat then away. The word was rather drawn out, his voice rather husky as though he'd just woken up or it hadn't been used in a long time. ‘I just... When I didn't speak people ignored me and left me alone so I stayed silent after a while it just seemed natural and there still wasn't much point in speaking when you've no one to talk to.'

Lucas focused on the deck beneath his feet and rubbed at his throat self-consciously.

‘Hey, it's OK kiddo.’ Bridger leaned forward to catch Lucas' eye. ‘You can talk as much or little as you want. I was just worried.’

A half smile tugged at the corners of Lucas' mouth and he rubbed at his throat again.

‘Okay.’ The word came as a croak causing both of them to smile.

‘Come on. Let's see what the good doctor has for sore throats then I have to get back to work.’ Bridger pushed himself off the deck, straightening up in time to see Lucas look away an unhappy expression on his face. ‘Hey, what's wrong?’

Lucas shook his head refusing to look at the captain.

‘Don't give me that. Something upset you, what is it?’

‘I don't want you to go.’ Lucas finally looked back at Bridger long enough for the older man to be able to read the emotions in the blue eyes, panic and fear at the idea of losing his friend again if only for a short time.

Bridger paused weighing his options, he wanted to keep Lucas where he could see him too.

‘I'm going to be digging through the personnel files to see if I can locate our saboteur. You can work on the system from anywhere, can't you?’ Lucas nodded enthusiastically. ‘Well then I don't see why you can't accompany me.’

‘Can I look at the computer schematics?’

‘What for? I thought we needed to concentrate on getting the virus out of the system before we could do anything else.’

‘There might be a way round it.’ Lucas' voice dropped to a whisper despite him clearing his throat.

‘And that would be faster?’

Lucas nodded in confirmation rather than speaking again.

‘Right, we'll let Dr Westphalen look at your throat then we'll see what we can find.’

*

Commander Ford leaned over the communications console watching the lights and screens flicker with the disinterested air of a man with nothing better to do. The inactivity chafed at him, and it was made plain in the way he paced up and down the bridge, peering at duty stations but managing to keep himself from actually interfering.

The past few hours had dragged by for everyone aboard the seaQuest, all the more so because only Engineering had been able to get out and do something. Seated beside him O'Neill blinked at something he heard, muttered a request for verification into the mike, smiled quickly then handed the headset to Ford.

Looking dubious, Ford held it to his ear for a few seconds.

‘seaQuest, this is EVA repair team one, power station vent cap is in place and sealed.’

A slow grin spread across Ford's face as his listened. ‘Roger that team one, return to base. Good job.’ He dropped the headset back into O'Neill's hands and straightened up, turning to face the rest of the bridge crew. ‘They've done it. We've done it. The patching is complete.’

‘Commander Ford?’

Ford turned back to O'Neill ignoring the murmuring from the crew.

‘Sir, the Captain would like to speak to you and Commander Hitchcock in the Wardroom.’

‘Thank you Lieutenant. You have the bridge.’ Ford swung round and seeing Hitchcock looking at him waved at her to follow him out of the bridge to the wardroom, as they left they heard O'Neill requesting Doctor Westphalen's presence in the Wardroom as well.

*

On entering the Wardroom they were surprised to find the Captain accompanied by what they assumed was one of the kids rescued from the derelict power station communication plant. They took their seats and waited for Doctor Westphalen to join them. She arrived a couple of minutes later quickly closing the door and taking her own seat.

‘Sir, the repair team has just returned. Venting cap is sealed and locked.’ Ford reported

Bridger had looked up at their entry but seemed to look right through them without registering the words or their presence.

‘You wanted to see us, sir?’ Ford prompted.

Bridger shook his head and seemed to drag himself back to the present.

‘Very good on the repairs.’ He glanced down at the information complied in front of him for a moment going over the possibilities one last time. ‘I think I found it.’

‘The virus?’ Ford asked

‘No, better than that. Our saboteur. I went back through the boat's service logs for the past year, nothing unusual. Then I checked the personnel manifest for the same time. The seaQuest was in dock with a minimum crew at the same time too.

‘So?’ Ford queried.

‘So, the log shows there was one senior officer in charge the whole time.’ Bridger touched a control on the table in front of him. The briefing screen at the end of the room snapped on to show a picture of a woman in a Captain’s uniform. The picture, like all ID mug shots, wasn't the best portrait of the woman but it had captured the shuttered icy look that was her familiar expression.

‘Stark.’ Ford muttered

‘And you served under her, right?’ Bridger knew the answer well enough but it was always best to get confirmation.

Ford nodded. ‘I was her XO at Livingston Trench. She was relieved of command. NORPAC recommended psychiatric evaluation. She refused, she just disappeared. He shrugged and shook his head. She's good.’

‘She should be, I taught her.’

‘You? Oh dear.’ Westphalen stared at the captain in surprise.

Bridger nodded in confirmation. ‘She was a cadet of mine at the Academy. I sponsored her when she went up for her officer's bars. Her first command was a surface ship in the North Atlantic. There was a skirmish and she fired, deaths resulted, one of them was my son.’

Bridger trailed off feeling the weight of the looks from the others in the room but not really seeing any faces except for the ones that weren't there.

‘So what? Now she's after you?’ Hitchcock asked dubiously.

Bridger snapped back with a small shudder which he masked by shaking his head. ‘No, I'm just the icing on the cake. She's after the seaQuest.’

‘I can't believe she'd deliberately destroy her own ship.’ Ford objected.

‘Well, if she can't have it, then no one else can. And besides if there's no seaQuest, rebels run the sea.' He smiled faintly. 'What she didn't count on was this old man aboard, whose knowledge of the ship's systems pre-dates even hers. Now listen, we may be going about this the wrong way.'

Bridger tapped the table top drawing little circles and arcs with the tip of one finger. 'Instead of attacking the virus head on, what if we just went around it?’

The finger made a broad curving sweep across the varnished surface.

‘It might work. Hitchcock muttered. Her eyes unfocused as she concentrated on the idea, considering the options. You probably won't have full weapons and propulsion.’

‘Anything is better than what we've got now. Right?

‘Yes, sir.’ Hitchcock looked happier about things than she had since this started.

However, her expression wasn't mirrored by Doctor Westphalen.

‘Weapons, that's what this is really about, isn't it?’ The doctor snapped, her tone dripping with disgust. She pushed away from the table starting for the door.

Bridger grimaced in annoyance at her attitude. There was a time and place for everything - but not this, not here, and not now. He slammed the flat of his hand down of the table making everyone jump. Reaching out he settled a hand on Lucas' arm in silent apology.

‘Just a minute Doctor.’

Westphalen had paused and turned back to the table, the disgusted look still on her face.

‘No, it's not about weapons Doctor, it's about saving lives.’

Westphalen seemed to consider that statement before nodding slightly. ‘I hope so.’

‘Now let's get to work.’ He motioned for Westphalen to retake her seat. 'Lucas here has been studying the computer system schematics and we think we can reroute the sections we need without the computer and virus noticing the changes. Even take some systems off the main computer and run them from laptops etc. Just don't go near the main core.'

‘Sir, is that a good idea?’ Ford frowned, eyeing the young blonde at the other end of the table concentrating on a screen in front of him occasionally moving to make notes on some papers his right.

‘It's the only way to get our systems back Commander.’

‘Yes Sir. What I meant was, is it a good idea letting the kid loose with the schematics for highly classified systems. The kids are after all admitted hackers who knows where the information could end up.’

‘Commander I think our systems are safe. Let me introduce you. Commanders Ford and Hitchcock this is Lucas Wolenczak who is responsible for writing programs for several of those classified systems.’

Both commanders wore identical expressions of incredulous shock as they observed Lucas, who, realising all eyes were on him, scrunched down slightly in his chair.

Hitchcock move up the table to look at the notes Lucas had been making, glancing from the scribbles to the view of the system conduits displayed in front of them. She took a moment to absorb the information then sat back with a look determination.

'These are the reroutes we need?’ She asked.

Lucas nodded.

‘All of them?’

He nodded again.

Hitchcock looked aback towards the captain. ‘Permission to start the repairs Sir?’

‘Yes Commander.’ Bridger in amusement watched as Hitchcock all but ran from the room to find her team before turning to the others remaining. ‘Doctor we'll need to be prepared for more casualties. I know we're not equipped to handle the large numbers that we are talking about but do your best.

Commander Ford see that Commander Hitchcock and her teams have everything they need. This rewiring is not going to be fun there will be computer cables running everywhere, it will be a safety nightmare do what you can to warn everyone to be careful we don't want more casualties than necessary especially not ones that took a header down a ladder because they weren't paying attention.’

‘Yes sir.’

Doctor Westphalen nodded and both got up to leave when Lucas spoke up quietly.

‘I want to go back down and help with the virus sweeps.’

‘You're sure?’

‘I can't do anything more up here We're going need all the help we can get and can help with removing the lines of coding. ’

Bridger looked at his young companion for a moment, pushing away the irrational fear that he might vanish again.

‘I'll take him down. It's on my way to med-bay.’ Westphalen offered.

Lucas nodded his thanks and giving Bridger a tight determined smile followed the Doctor out of the room.

‘I guess I'll see if there's anything I can do to help with the repairs.’ Bridger murmured to the empty room left the wardroom following Ford heading towards the bridge.

*

As Ford began organising the needed supplies Bridger joined Hitchcock as her station where she was going over the schematics with the crew members who would be leading the operation.

The crew, including Hitchcock, knew how the systems worked and were familiar with recent changes and additions but only knew the rest of the ship from the schematics currently under examination while Bridger knew the ship from the guts up, having designed them and watched them being put in. Lucas had provided details on what would need to go where but Bridger was able to point out the best points where these connections could be best made.

Which Bridger reflected was where Stark went wrong. She would assume the people here would be trying to fix the problem in the software, not the hardware. And even if they did try some drastic rerouteing with the hardware, they wouldn't know the ship well enough to do it with any speed. Unfortunately for Stark, Bridger did know it well enough and the crew where learning fast.

‘There and there, and there and there.’ Bridger pointed to the points along one of the longitudinal corridors where the circuits and wires they would need could be easiest accessed.

He looked over Hitchcock's shoulder for the scribbled notes detailing the next connections needed.

‘These conduits need to connect to those.’ He moved his finger over a more detailed wiring plan. ‘But don't go near this other cable here it’s the mains and the computer will note the changes and reroute the new connections into the main network, and everything will get screwed up again. Just run the connections down the passageways we're not trying for the school neatness award here.’

*

Under his and Hitchcock's directions, teams fanned out the length and breadth of seaQuest. Along the corridors, one after another, combined science and Navy teams engaged in constructive sabotage.

The Navy crews lead the way, studying printouts, hunting a specific panel: they would find it remove the panel cover. Then the science crew would lean in and start to work, pulling out fat sheaths of fibre optic cable and wire, dissecting them haphazardly like mad mechanical scientists, the splicing them to thick jury-rigged cables that snaked down the passageways like intestines.

Elsewhere the surgery was more drastic the galley had been invaded, the cool store emptied and the supporting bulkhead that formed the back wall was attacked with a small power saw. Once the cutting was finished the science crew moved in pulling out bundles of tubing and wires then raised the grids that formed the deck plates and pulling out more cables began splicing and re-sectioning.

*

Bridger was making his way back to the bridge having gone back down to check on the progress that was being made trying to wrest control of the systems back from the virus while the repairs where being done, and if he was honest to check on Lucas who had just glanced up at him rolled his eyes and gone back to work.

He took note of the repair teams soldering connections where there where never supposed to be connections as he passed, this would give the design teams nightmares, but so far, they'd managed to get the sensor systems back online. Work around him paused as O'Neill's voice came over the loudspeaker.

‘Captain to the bridge, Captain to the bridge. Westridge Farming Community is under attack again, repeat, Farming Community is under attack.’

Work had resumed before the communication ended and Bridger dashed along the corridor back to the bridge before moving to stand near the communications and sensor stations.

‘The renegade sub is attacking. The colonists are trying to fight it off with their mini-subs.’ O'Neill paused for a second as he listened. ‘It doesn't sound good.’

‘’ Bridger called across to Hitchcock.

‘One-quarter normal.’ She replied without looking up from her work but sounding triumphant at the improvement, even a quarter of the seaQuest's normal thrust was no crawl.

‘Still no weapons or targeting.’ Phillips replied watching his console carefully.

Overhead the lights flickered and dipped down to almost nothing and the bridge crew froze glancing about themselves as they held their collective breath. Then, for the first time in hours, the lights came back to full brightness. A restrained cheer went up from some of the crew. Bridger sighed in relief.

'Good boy.’ He whispered thinking of hands flashing across a keyboard elsewhere on the ship. ‘Send coordinates to navigation and plot a course.’

’Yes sir.’ Ford leaned over the Navigation table and bought up the fastest course.

From outside, the WSKRs relayed their multiple views of the seaQuest slowly coming back to life, lights flickering on, sparkling along the hull, and slowly, listing slightly to starboard moving away from Gedrick and out into the dark waters of the Long Chain Mountains.

*

seaQuest swept along the Long Chain, making depth and building momentum. Ahead of her the WSKR nicknamed _Loner_ surveyed the path, relaying what it saw and storing data for the improvement of maps of the area. Behind it, level with the seaQuest, _Mother_ checked the data while running passive mineral scans as well as operating side scanning sonar. Hovering just above seaQuest's stern the final WSKR, _Junior_ , hurried to keep up, monitoring the water above them for any other craft and acting as a rear guard.

Inside the seaQuest the desperate business of hardware rerouteing was continuing at best possible speed. Thick, gut like, conduits now lay down both longitudinal corridors reaching occasionally up into ceiling hatches or down under the decking.

It was a mess - but it was becoming a working mess. Or so the crew hoped.

The conduits ran everywhere it would be easy to trip and break your neck if you didn't pay attention. All the watertight doors had had to be overridden, which was a major cause for concern, if the fighting got bad and the ship started taking on water again then the only way to seal her up would be by literally cutting off their hard-won control of the ships systems, essentially amounting to suicide.

Bridger leaned over O'Neill's console watching him monitor the messages from the besieged community. They were cycling their transmitters, switching from one to another rapidly to stop the Delta from targeting and destroying their means of communication. Even if the Delta did try it would have to take out anything that looked as though it could be a transmitter using up a lot of weaponry.

Bridger looked up at the main view screen showing the seaQuest's progress along their course.

O'Neill paused in his constant adjustment of his frequencies, catching this from the corner of his eye Bridger turned back to the communications officer. ‘Speak to me Mr. O'Neill.'

'The colonists munitions have been depleted, Captain. They're helpless.’

‘Delta 4 has fired. Four torpedoes away. Two passed, two direct strikes.’ Ortiz reported.

Bridger muttered to himself thinking. They needed something to distract Stark from pounding the buildings to death in frustration.

‘Mr O'Neill has the Delta been receiving any outside broadcasts?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘The next time she receives one can you patch us in to it?’

‘I should be able to.’

‘Good patch it through to me in the wardroom if you do.’ Bridger turned to leave the bridge aware of Ford coming towards him concern clear on his face.

They reached the wardroom in silence and Bridger waited until Ford shut the door before speaking.

‘It's gotten too easy. We fire torpedoes, we shoot missiles, extinguish lives without even thinking. Well I'm gonna remind her that her targets are people, living and breathing, with names and faces.’

‘To be honest sir, I don't think she'll care.’ Ford objected.

Bridger sighed and looked at his first officer. ‘You think it's possible for someone to change that much?’

They were interrupted by O'Neill before Ford could reply.

‘Captain, the Delta 4's receiving an outside transmission. With your permission I'll piggyback the signal and get us through.’

‘Proceed, Lieutenant.’

Ford leaned against the wall near the vid-screen so he could see it but Stark wouldn't be able to see him. The screen flashed to life showing an image of Marilyn Stark who at first looked surprised at the unexpected transmission before letting a cool, arrogant expression fall into place.

‘Nathan Bridger. Where are you?’

‘I'm disappointed in you, Marilyn. Four torpedoes fired and only two hits, I thought I taught you better than that.' Bridger kept his voice level only mild disappointment could be heard in his tone.

A cold sneer tugged at her lips for a brief second. ‘I'll do better next time. I promise.’

‘There won't be a next time, we both know that. Too many innocent people have died already.’

A flash of disbelief was clear in her expression.

‘What world are you living in, Nathan? There are no innocent people, everybody's guilty of something.’ Her tone dripped contempt.

‘Maybe, but don't you think we deserve a second chance? To change, to live peacefully.'

'I don't want to change. You didn't teach change at the Academy, or peace. You taught war, Nathan, war. And I intend to use what I learned.’ She turned away from the screen clearly about to dismiss him in disgust. Before she could disconnect the link Bridger spoke again.

‘I taught something else... never take on an opponent unless you expect to win.’

Stark turned back to her screen the vague confusion in her eyes turning to smug amusement as she looked at him more closely.

‘You're on the seaQuest.’

‘Give up, Marilyn.’ His tone was firm, offering no alternative.

‘I made that mistake once, I won't make it again. You are as impotent as your boat, Captain.’ The arrogant expression showed no weakness, no sign of her backing down.

‘I'm warning you right now, if you don't surrender, I'm going to use every resource on this boat to bring you down, and I'll succeed.’ For the first time in the conversation Bridger allowed anger to creep into his tone. Then calmly, almost as an afterthought. ‘Oh, we found your virus, it's over.’

Stark looked away frustration twisting her face as she reconsidered a playing field which suddenly wasn't so stacked in her favour. When she looked back there was a mocking light in her eyes.

‘You want to kill me, don't you? The warrior in you wants to taste a little blood. Isn't it funny, I kill for power, you kill for peace. We're just different sides of the same coin. Each heroes to our own causes. Let's see who gets the parade.’ She gave him one last taunting look before the screen dissolved in static and the UEO logo flashed up along with the words transmission lost.

Bridger sighed in defeat then looked at Ford and motioned that they should head back to the bridge.

*

On the bridge Ford moved around the various stations checking on their progress while Bridger watched the navigation screen show the seaQuest approaching the end of the mountain range where the Delta 4 would then be able to locate them.

‘Status, Commander.; Bridger requested as Ford joined him on the lower floor of the bridge.

‘Minimal weapons control, tube one, manual firing capability only.’

‘Still down.’

‘So, we may be able to fire one torpedo, but we have no way to tell it where to go. Terrific.’ Bridger sighed in frustration and paced to the moon pool at the back of the bridge where Darwin floated watching him with interest. He paused staring back at the dolphin.

There was a person on seaQuest Stark didn't know about. The idea of a dolphin team had been viewed by the navy as unpractical at the time. While the aqua-tubes and pools had been in place, they had been sealed while Stark was in command.

‘Do our torpedoes have tracking options?’

Ford was surprised at the sudden change in topic. 'Yes.'

‘Can they be locked into a designated frequency?’

‘If we need to.’

‘Keep me in the loop. I'll be on the sea deck.’ He motioned for the dolphin to follow him then ran up the stairs and out of the bridge.

*

On the way to the sea deck Bridger collected Lucas from where he and the kids were still working on the virus and explained his idea and while Lucas didn't look any happier about it than Bridger felt he offered no objections for which Bridger was thankful.

They entered the sea deck to find Westphalen and several of her crew already there much to Bridger’s discomfort: this was not a conversation he wanted to have with anyone else present.

Lucas went immediately to the side of the tank while Bridger went to a closet and pulled out a modified rebreather. He spoke to the nearest crew members and asked them to change into wetsuits to help him.

‘Lucas back.' The dolphin chittered happily apparently having no difficultly with any changes in Lucas' appearance since his abduction.

‘Hey fish face.’ Lucas grinned as he leaned over the edge and rubbed at Darwin's melon while Bridger and Westphalen joined them the latter with a confused expression.

‘Darwin play.’ The dolphin moved back a bit so he could watch all three of them.

Bridger set the rebreather on the edge of the tank and picked up the handset for the translator.

‘Yes, play. Not like other games. Now, I need your help.’

‘Darwin help.’

‘You might hear what it is first.’

‘Trust Bridger.’

Bridger swallowed surprised at the confidence Darwin showed in him. Beside him Westphalen's expression had changed to disapproval.

‘We're at six hundred feet, that's the limit of a dolphin's tolerance.’ She hissed quietly.

‘He's gone deeper than five hundred before. I know his tolerance.’ Bridger noted that he sounded more confident than he felt.

‘You're taking a chance with his life.’

‘You have a better idea?’

She looked blank for a moment then sounding smug asked. ‘What about air?’

‘Need air.’ Darwin agreed having watched the quarrel with interest.

‘With this,’ Bridger pointed to the specially modified rebreather. ‘He won't have to come to the surface to breathe.’

‘Need air.’ Darwin insisted more forcefully as the crewmen Bridger had spoken to earlier returned dressed in wetsuits and slipped into the water.

‘Yes, you'll get air. Just try it, try it.’ The crewmen under Bridger’s guidance buckled Darwin into the rebreather harness securing the small gas exchange dome over the blowhole. The dome clouded over as Darwin blew out cautiously, then again harder, the seal remained firm. Darwin ducked under to swim a few laps of the pool.

‘Flood the tube.’ Bridger called to one of the crewmen.

‘Aye, sir.’

‘I don't like it.’ Westphalen stated.

‘Don't like what?’ Bridger glanced away from Darwin's experimenting to look at her.

‘You are going to fire him out of a torpedo tube!’ She stressed indignantly.

Bridger stared at her in disbelief. ‘No, he is going to swim out of a torpedo tube. He explained slowly, as though to a child.’

‘I still don't like it. She sniffed.’

Lucas leaned forward as Darwin broke the surface and swam back to them.

‘Darwin. Breathe.’ The dolphin sounded delighted.

‘You know he'll not give that back anytime soon.’ Lucas smirked.

‘Sounds like someone else I know when he gets a new toy.’ Bridger replied glancing at Lucas for a reaction. The kid pretended not to hear him and focused on rubbing Darwin's head.

He leaned down closer to the dolphin, catching his eye. ‘Now, what you do is swim out and tag the marker.'

'Darwin play.’

‘Just like on the island. You swim down, you tag the marker, tag the metal boat. Understand?’ He held out the magnetic transmitter for Darwin to grasp.

‘Metal boat.’ Darwin nodded.

‘Darwin, you don't have to do this.’ Westphalen interjected.

Darwin wriggled as though shaking off her statement and gently took the strap from Bridger gripping it firmly with his teeth.

‘Swim like Bridger.’

'Like me?' Bridger questioned

‘No suit, skin.’ Darwin backed away and swam out of the pool into the aqua-tubes.

Lucas sniggered quietly, ignoring Bridger’s sharp glance as he tried not to think about Darwin's confusion when Bridger had only started wearing shorts for swimming when Lucas was on the Island.

‘What was that all about?’ Westphalen wondered aloud.

‘Inside joke.’ Bridger glossed over.

‘Ha, ha.’ Westphalen said dryly.

‘Lucas, I want you to stay here with Dr Westphalen.’ Bridger pushed himself off the side of the pool and looked down at Lucas who for a moment looked as though he would argue but then nodded agreement. Bridger turned and left headed for the bridge.

*

Bridger arrived back on the bridge as Ortiz looked up from his console and called out.

‘WSKRS are picking up the Delta 4, two thousand yards off our starboard bow. Punch up forward screens.’

The screens came to life showing the WSKR enhanced landscape. The flat plain beyond the mountains was broken only by the occasional trench and the cluster of bubble domes and access tubes that formed the facility.

Hovering around the perimeter of the structures where about a dozen mini subs ranging from observation globes to crab like sample retrievers: it looked like anything that could move around had been employed in to forming some kind of defence team. Just to one side of the screen facing off against the fragile crafts floated the Delta 4.

‘Commander, status please.’

‘Tube one locked and loaded, torpedo is fully charged. Ford looked down from where he was standing behind the weapons console.’

‘Negative, twenty percent. I want to stop them, not destroy them.’

Ford gave the captain an odd look before turning back to Phillips at the console. ‘You heard the man, twenty percent charge.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Phillips adjusted the torpedo settings on his board.

‘Delta 4 is bringing her barrels around.’ Ortiz called.

Bridger joined his sensor chief watching as the Delta began to swing towards them.

‘Zero six zero, she's moving straight at us.’

Bridger moved to sit in his command chair and nodded at O'Neill. ‘Open the low-band, all the frequencies. I want everybody out there to hear me.’

‘Yes, sir. Low-band open and transmitting.’

Bridger pulled the command panel in front of him and pressed the microphone button there.

‘People of the Westridge Farm, this is Nathan Bridger, Captain of the seaQuest, representing the United Earth Oceans organisation. We are here to protect you and your facility. Please move to safe ground immediately, move clear immediately.

Attention Delta 4, we are prepared and willing to accept your immediate and unconditional surrender. Otherwise, we shall be forced to fire on you. Repeat, we are prepared to accept your unconditional surrender.’ He cut the transmission and waited.

Watching the forward screen he could see the small craft backing away to the far side of the facility. The Delta just hovered dark and silent directly in front of seaQuest. ‘Weapons control, open all outer torpedo tube doors.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The weapons officer hit a button in front of him.

‘Uh, Captain, only tube one is armed.’ Crocker pointed out leaning in close.

‘I know that, but they don't.’ Bridger sat back waiting to see if the bluff would cause a response from the Delta.

*

On the Delta the sensor chief reported the action. 'SeaQuest is opening all torpedo tubes.'

Marilyn Stark walked calmly to stand in the centre of the bridge.

'Any targeting sweeps detected? Bridger used to drum it into us, first thing you do is targeting sweeps. If he's not targeting, he's bluffing. Mr. Maxwell, initiate firing sequence, open all six tubes.' She smiled coldly.

‘All tubes? That'll take almost a minute to initiate.’ Her first officer queried.

‘I know that, I want to blast her out of the water. It's time the student became the teacher.’

Her eyes turned dreamy reflecting her utter confidence in her victory.

*

‘Delta 4 is settling into an attack position sir.’ Ford reported.

Bridger swung round to face the weapons station. ‘OK, Mr. Phillips, let him go.’

‘Delta 4 is targeting.’ Ortiz warned.

‘Sir, our torpedo doors are open and ready to fire.’ Ford confirmed.

‘Delta 4 is flooding all her torpedo tubes.’

‘All her tubes?’ Bridger asked in surprise.

‘Yes, sir.’ Ortiz confirmed.

Bridger shook his head. ‘She never did know when to quit. It's all yours, Darwin.’

*

Unseen by the Delta Darwin shot out of the seaQuest swimming fast towards the unfamiliar boat. Ortiz adjusted the WSKRs to track his progress on the view screens. The dolphin was a faint silvery shape heading straight for the Delta then dropping down along the hull and out of Loner's sight.

Ortiz switched the view to Junior who had been allowed to drift towards the bottom undetected. With this view the bridge crew could see Darwin making his way along the Delta's underside. Juniors view zoomed in on the dolphin as he jerked his head and moved away leaving a dark object clinging to the hull its strap moving gently in the currents.

As Darwin twisted away, heading back towards to seaQuest as fast as he could Junior picked up a small flash of green light then again as the magnetic transmitter pulsed to life.

*

A loud ping echoed through the Delta's interior followed by a second then third.

‘What the hell is that?’ Maxwell yelled as the pinging continued.

Stark stared at the hull beneath her feet in shock.

‘He tagged us.’ She whispered her voice hoarse with disbelief and outrage.

*

The pinging echoed through seaQuest as well.

‘We have a targeting signal.’ Hitchcock called triumphantly

‘Tracking system searching for target. Residual acoustical interference, still searching for target. Acoustical noise dissipating, targeting system acquiring tag signal. Captain, we have torpedo lock.’ Phillips reported.

There was no more time for change, no choice left and no more second chances.

'Fire.' Bridger commanded.

*

Stark settled herself in her chair, flicked open the firing console and calmly pressed one finger down on the firing switch. The six confirmation lights came on but instead of a steady glow indicating launch they were flashing. She pushed the firing switch again then repeatedly hit it with her thumb. Snarling she swung round to face Maxwell.

‘Why aren't we firing?’

‘Launching sequence ready in thirteen, twelve...’ Maxwell replied desperately.

‘SeaQuest has fired.’ The sensor chief reported quietly as Maxwell continued his countdown.

*

Midway to the Delta the torpedo lost momentum and hung in the water moving gently from side to side.

‘Torpedo has lost lock, we do not have lock.’ Phillips called, hands racing across his console checking readings.

*

The Delta's sensor chief hunched over his sonar screen watching as the torpedo scanned the water between them.

‘She's hunting, the torpedo is hunting for us.’

*

The seaQuest bridge was completely silent watching the WSKR eyed view of the meandering torpedo. They saw the propeller pick up speed again just as Phillips called out. ‘Torpedo has reacquired target!’

Silently they watched as the torpedo unerringly found the Delta's hull. The outer casting broke apart on impact, the internal explosive charge activated the plasma charge.

Blue lightening raced across the hull, even the twenty percent charge too much for the elderly sub. The outer hull started to crack and the six torpedoes blasted uselessly from their tubes spiralling upward, uncontrolled and useless.

Slowly the Delta began to drift downwards to the seabed and fell into one of the trenches marring the flat plain.

*

The scene in the Delta's command centre was one of panic. The crew scattered from their stations as consoles exploded from the excess electrical charge and steam pipes erupted. Further aft the watertight doors could be heard clanging shut to contain flooding.

Cries of ‘Get to the mini-sub!’ and ‘The mini-sub!’ could be heard over the hissing of the pipes. and creaking hull.

‘Stop! Get back! We've got to attack! That is a direct command!’ Stark screamed impotently standing in the centre of the bridge watching her crew run from her.

‘We're going down.’ Maxwell yelled at her.

‘No! This is all your fault, you cheapskate!’ She grabbed a piece of pipe and hit out at Maxwell. ‘We can still beat them! You cowards!’

*

On the seaQuest the crew waited for confirmation and Ortiz was happy to oblige. ‘We have a direct hit on the Delta 4, Captain. She's going down, Captain.’

No cheers followed the announcement just a gradual release of tension as the news sank in.

Bridger ordered the TeamCraft out to help the Westridge facility repair damage and recover its dead as well as examine the wreckage of the Delta and rescue any survivors while he used the wardroom's vid-screen to inform UEO headquarters of the events since leaving Pearl have them answer a few queries of his own.

*

When the activity on the bridge had stabilised Bridger left to check on the continuing repairs and how their many guests had fared. He suppressed a groan when coming down a ladder into a corridor he noticed a group of military crew passing some scientists and eyeing them warily, though to be fair the science crew had the same attitude to the navy group and hurriedly moved on down the corridor.

So much for the shared experience having forged a relationship between the two crews it looked like it would still be some time before they could be considered a single crew.

As the military crew passed Bridger they saluted.

One Ensign even went as far as to say. ‘Captain, sir, well done sir.’

‘Thank you.’ Bridger replied out of politeness as they moved up the steps to the upper deck.

Jonathan Ford came up from the lower deck and seeing Bridger walked over to him falling into step beside him. ‘Captain, the recon party's just returned from the downed Delta 4.’

'Survivors?' Bridger asked hopefully.

‘They're being brought aboard.’

'Stark?'

‘She wasn't listed, and the boat's mini-sub was gone.’

Bridger sighed. He doubted Stark would accept this defeat and wondered what else she might plan for the future.

’Have one of the aft compartments secured and use it as a makeshift brig. I don't think there's room for them in the holding cell. If the recon party's ready, we can get underway.’

‘Would the Captain like to take the helm?’

‘Oh, I think you can handle that, Commander.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Ford turned on his heel and headed back down the passageway.

Bridger heard a soft thumping noise and turned to look at the aqua-tube seeing Darwin watching him, his mouth open in the dolphin equivalent of a smile.

‘Hey, Darwin boy.’ Bridger stepped closer and gave an answering knock against the tube and gave him a thumbs up.

Darwin rolled himself over in response then moved off along the tube. Bridger following more slowly.

As he reached the sea deck he could hear Westphalen talking to the dolphin before he entered.

‘Well done, clever Darwin. Yes, well done, well done.’ She was crouched down by the pool petting the dolphin's head. Lucas was sitting perched on the edge of the pool near her fiddling with the handset for the translator.

Westphalen noticed Bridger standing in the doorway first, breaking off her praise of Darwin when she saw him. Lucas looked up at her silence and spying Bridger put the handset back in the cradle on the wall. Bridger beckoned Lucas to follow him and nodding to the Doctor backed out of the doorway.

*

The pair reached Bridger's cabin in silence and Bridger waved Lucas to a seat at the desk. Lucas sat without comment never taking his eyes off him as he settled himself on the edge of the bunk.

‘I spoke to UEO command earlier.’

‘UEO?’

‘Oh, I forgot you wouldn't know that. United Earth Oceans Organisation. Its an international organisation that now controls the sea helping to keep peace so there won't be the continued threat of war between the undersea Confederations.’

‘Ahh.’

Bridger smiled at Lucas's non-committal noise.

‘Yes ahh, so far it has been working but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. We're heading back to Pearl Harbour as we speak where a lot of loose ends are going to have to be tied up. I gave command all the details of what has been happening since Gedrick came under attack. Including the details about you and your companions.’

Lucas tilted his head inquisitively but remained silent.

‘Mr Marshall and his son will be taken into custody and charged. Reese and the other kids will be looked after and helped to adjust to normal life again. Command already has people looking for their parents so hopefully they can be returned home or other arrangements can be made for their care.

‘And me?’

‘Currently your parents are out of contact. Your mother is in Europe somewhere with.' Bridger paused then decoded there was no easier way to put it. 'With her new husband. Bill Noyce is trying to find her. Your father is immersed in research somewhere and no-one seems to know where he is.’

‘They finally divorced then?’

Bridger nodded.

‘Makes sense. I mean, they couldn't even stand to be in the same room together. I remember wishing they would just get a divorce and get it over with.’

‘And now?’

Lucas shrugged non-committally.

‘What's going to happen to me? Lucas frowned unhappily. ‘I mean if they can't reach them.’

‘Bill knows the only reason I agreed to come back to this,’ Bridger waved a hand to indicate their surroundings. ‘Was so I could keep looking for you. He's arranging for you to be put temporarily in my custody until the situation can be resolved.’

‘And then what are you going to do?

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well you've said twice that looking for me was the only reason you came back to this. Now I'm found what will you do?’

Bridger looked at his young companion in surprise. I don't know. I hadn't quite thought that far ahead. I'm not sure I can stay.’

‘Why not? Come on, you like it here, don't you? I mean, it is your boat.'

'I made a promise.'

'To your wife?'

'To Carol, yes.'

Lucas stood up from the desk and wandered around the cabin looking at the various personal items.

'My parents said when got married, they made a promise to stay together forever.' Lucas paused beside the holo-projector and stared at the photographs lining the adjacent shelf. 'I guess they didn't count on things changing.'

Bridger eyed Lucas' back in surprise as he thought over the words.

'Besides science and military together?' Lucas glanced over his shoulder with a grin. 'That has got to be your ideal job!’

‘You're trying to convince me to stay here?’

‘It's got to be better than living alone on the Island. I mean… here you get to play with all the research projects you want and you can foist the boring bits off to other people.’

Bridger opened his mouth to protest the idea of foisting things off on to anyone else then laughed.

‘And what would you do if I decide to stay on board?’

‘I can look after myself till one or other of my parents decides I'm worth bothering about again.’ Lucas picked up a picture of the two of them taken at the Vocorder's launch, one finger idly tracing along the edge missing Bridger's look of distress at the mention of his parent’s attitude to him.

‘What if there's another option?’

‘Like what?’

‘The seaQuest will be back in dry dock for a while to repair the damage to the hull and the computer. By that time, we should have found your parents. The computer engineer we had lined up has been offered another post he feels he would be better suited for but will join us for the tour if we can't find a replacement. If your parents will agree to it and you agree to a few mandatory conditions would you be interested?’

Lucas looked back over his shoulder his expression unreadable.

‘It's not being offered by me out of any sense of responsibility or pity.’ The slight relaxing of Lucas's expression told Bridger, that had been what he assumed. ‘In fact,’ he continued. ‘it was Noyce that suggested it. You're just as qualified as any other applicant. Plus, you've been on board less than a day and you already know the system better than me or my engineers and we built the blasted thing.’

Lucas smiled slightly at the note of false exasperation seeping into Bridger's tone.

‘I doubt my parents would object too much to the idea. What conditions?’ Lucas glanced back at the picture in his hands before putting it down and coming to sit on the other end of the bunk, facing Bridger with a hint of a challenge in his eyes.

'The same counselling sessions the rest of the kids are offered.'

Lucas pulled a face. 'That's only one conditions.'

'A hair cut. It doesn't have to be military regulation just not the straggly mess you've got going on.'

Choosing what to do with his hair would give Lucas back some control over his own life whatever else happened afterwards.'

Lucas rested his chin on the knee he pulled up in front of him as he mulled the conditions over.

'OK.'

'OK?' Bridger raised an eyebrow at the easy response.

Lucas lifted his head, this time the challenge was clear in his eyes and the tilt of his chin. ‘I'll stay if you do.’

Bridger looked over at the photographs clustered on the shelf then to the young man sitting just in front of him and nodded holding out his hand.

Lucas grinned happily and shook the proffered hand before being pulled into a hug.

‘Captain, you're wanted on the bridge.’ O'Neill's voice came over the intercom.

‘I think that's me.’ Bridger smiled letting go of Lucas.

‘I'll go let Reese and the others know what's happening.’ Lucas practically bounced out the door. Bridger followed more sedately pausing once to look at the name plate on the door before heading to the bridge.

End.

Written: Aug – Nov 2003

Edited: June 2018

 

 


End file.
